


fire & jasper is all I see

by galaxygal



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Communication, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Knight Spot, M/M, Prince Albert, Prince Race, Smut, debatable characterization, established Sprace, ie.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18379586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxygal/pseuds/galaxygal
Summary: As a prince, Race should have been a little more concerned with his princely duties.But it’s not like that had stopped him before.





	fire & jasper is all I see

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from “Paper Shields” by Virginia Man.

Prince Antonio was scared of very little. Spiders, large snakes, tornadoes, wild dragons, the usual terrors. 

This, however, terrified him beyond belief.

“Spot, ugh, gods, _Spot_ ,” he moaned, head flung back against the wall as Spot mouthed at his neck, cheekily grinning up at him. Spot kissed under his jaw before pressing their lips together, making Race melt with the intensity.

“We’re gonna—fuck, _Spot_ —get caught.”

“Not if you can keep quiet, princess.”

Race whimpered, a breathy noise that Spot vowed to hear again, doubling down on his efforts as he pressed Race just a bit further against the wall, thigh slotted between his legs for Race to grind down on.

Spot brought one hand up to Race’s hair, intertwining it with the unruly curls, fingers brushing the warm metal of his crown. He pulled back, drawing a whine of protest from Race, glancing contemplatively up at the crown, before gently removing it from Race’s head.

Race looked at him, curious but more desperate to get back to business, tugging on Spot’s shirt in an attempt to bring him closer.

Spot smirked, and instead turned away, setting the crown on Race’s nightstand, before turning back around, grabbing Race’s wrists and pinning them above his head, once again pressed together from tip to toe.

“Tonight,” he murmured, breath tickling Race’s ear, “your only duty is to lay back on that bed and let me show you show much I love you.”

 

The next morning, however, Race did in fact have other duties. Princely duties, to be specific, like learning the importance of wartime versus peacetime taxes, solving minor hamlet disputes, and greeting suitors from neighboring kingdoms.

The latter of which may or may not have been the reason for Sir Conlon, Knight Class II and Companion to Prince Antonio, to defile him in his bed chambers last night, though that bit of information was between himself, Spot, and almost the entirety of the staff.

“Presenting to Your Majesty, Prince Albert DaSilva of Halvaire.” Speaking of suitors.

Race glanced up from where he’d been messing with a loose string on his outer shirt and took a sharp inhale. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spot stiffen minutely as well, though whether it was at Prince Albert’s arrival or Race’s reaction to it was unclear.

And gods, was it an arrival.

Prince Albert walked confidently in, dressed smartly in blue and gray, dark gold crown nestled within a bed of shining red hair. He wore a confident expression, eyes locked onto Race’s, and paused a few yards in front of the throne, bowing curtly.

“Nice to see your eyes are in fact as blue as they say.”

Normally, such comments would be brushed aside and possibly even mentioned as a punchline later on, but this time Race found a mild heat rising to his face. He shifted in his seat, taking on a sly smile.

“I’m supposing you didn’t just come here to admire the gardens.”

“No, the real beauty is right here, in this room.”

 _Damn_ , _that’s_ _two_ _in_ _the_ _span_ _of_ _a_ _minute_. Race snorted, shaking his head. “Smooth.”

“I’m sure I can come up with more if you’d like to accompany me later today.”

Race’s eyes snapped to Spot. He was stone-still, expression unreadable. Race looked away, and quickly thought of some solution. It’s not like he could keep saying no to suitors. He’d already turned away countless men and women. If he put off an actual courtship for any longer, there was no guarantee his parents wouldn’t arrange something for him.

Plus, of all the suitors he’d already met with, Albert was the first one he’d felt any genuine interest in, even without considering his relationship with Spot.

Taking a deep breath and glancing down at his hands, Race silently reassured himself. When he looked up, he was smiling again.

“I suppose I haven’t checked on the flowers lately anyway.”

 

Fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt, Race glanced at Spot’s reflection in the mirror, trying to see if he could find any trace of emotion now. 

But he was just as blank as before, even to Race, who could usually read him so well. It concerned Race far more than he’d like to admit, far more than he’d ever expected to care.

Him and Spot hadn’t had the easiest start, back when Spot—Sir Sean, as he had known him then—was first assigned as his guardian. Initially, Race had spent every moment possible for nearly three months trying to avoid him, adamant he could do fine on his own.

Once though, he escaped a little too well, and Sean hadn’t been able to find him. Race had managed to slip away during a visit to a town near the eastern border and tucked himself into an alcove hidden by a hanging ivy plant. Sean had walked right by him, not noticing the dip in the wall. Confronted with the dead-end of the alley and no apparent sign of Race, Sean had let out a shout of frustration.

Peering through the ivy, Race watched, smug with himself when he realized Sean wouldn’t find him.

When he caught sight of Sean’s expression though, he had been stunned to see desperation rather than anger. Sean looked scared, though whether it was for himself or for Race, he didn’t know.

Either way, something changed in Race. He realized that running from Sean was just making both of their lives more difficult.

He was still a little pissed though, mainly because Sean has found him every single time he had tried to run before, so he let him walk away before Race slipped out and snuck back over to where he’d originally evaded Sean, pretending to sit casually while he waited for Sean to inevitably come back.

But he never tried to run again—at least, not away from Sean. In fact, as they spent more time together, Race felt himself naturally gravitating towards him, until they were practically dancing on each other’s toes they were pining so hard.

It took some hardcore flirting on the part of Ike, one of Sean’s fellow knights, before Sean finally pulled Race into an empty room and kissed him senseless, murmuring his devotion as he took him apart.

That was nearly two years ago, however. Since then, they’d pursued their relationship in relative secrecy, hiding it from Race’s parents and the vast majority of the outside world, not so much from the staff— their friends, rather.

He sighed, lowering his hands, and turned to properly face Spot.

“Can you please talk to me? I know communication isn’t, like, our thing, but...” He trailed, managing to prove his point.

Spot finally looked at him, and suddenly Race was able to see the frustration he was holding.

“What is there to talk about? Finish getting dressed, you have to meet Prince Albert soon.”

“ _Spot_.”

“What?”

Race huffed, crossing his arms. “Come on, spill. I know you aren’t happy.”

Spot turned away, picking up Race’s crown. He held it in his hands, just looking at it, before gingerly sitting it on top of Race’s head. When he brought his hands back down, they were barely three inches away from each other, breathing softly. Race watched Spot carefully, eyes locked on to his.

Not moving away, Spot murmured, “We both knew this wasn’t a forever thing. No matter the stories we both grew up with, princes and knights don’t end up together.” He paused, glancing down at Race’s lips before they trailed up, crossing over his freckles and laugh lines. “You’re going to make someone very happy Race. Just-“ A beat. “-not me.”

Race’s breath caught in his chest, and he shook his head, curls flying back and forth violently.

“No. Spot, I _love_ you; I’m not giving up on us.” He crinkled his nose. “You’re right though, princes and knights don’t marry each other. But unless I devote myself to Christ or something and denounce men altogether-“ He shuddered. “-I do need to marry someone.” Pressing his palm to Spot’s cheek, he smiled. “Albert might be that someone.”

Spot still looked unconvinced, so Race took it upon himself to reassure him, kissing him sweetly, his other hand sliding up to hold the back of Spot’s neck.

They separated after a few moments, nose-to-nose, their breathing requiring a little more effort.

“We’ll figure it out; I promise.”

 

The gardens truly were a marvel. The kingdom of Reveille was known for its investments into the various sciences, and botany was no exception.

All around them, flowers of every size and hue bloomed, trees stretching their branches in graceful arches over the neatly paved stone paths. A pond near the center, filled with brightly colored fish and lily pads, supplied the streams snaking throughout with fresh water, and birds chirped overhead, many from the aviary perched near the greenhouse for the more needy plants.

While usually Race would spend his time in the gardens admiring the small but intricate beauties present, his mind was currently focused on exactly two beauties—though one was arguably still relatively small, in his defense.

Spot trailed a couple steps behind Albert and Race as Race led them through, pointing out a thing or two here and there in between their conversation, discussing themselves and their going-ons.

“I’m fourth-in-line, actually. Luckily, my older sisters are all more than adept enough.” Race laughed, making Albert grin.

“I get that. My brothers, Jack and Charlie, are both ahead of me. Jack is going to be an awesome king, and Charlie is probably gonna be his advisor or something.”

And so on.

Race made eye contact with Spot every now and then, winking or smirking at him. Every time he did, the corner of Spot’s mouth would lift nearly imperceptibly, and his eyes would dart away as he fought back a fond laugh. Every time that happened, Race felt a rush of joy, pleased.

Albert, on the other hand, seemed mostly clueless to the flirting going on right by his side, surprisingly invested in Race and everything he had to say, a stark contrast to a fair few of Race’s previous suitors.

It was a breath of fresh air, quite frankly, and Race found himself loving it just as much as his interactions with Spot.

It was also very confusing. He meant what he said to Spot with his whole heart, but there was something about Albert...

He was just about to begin a story about the time he and Crutchie had accidentally set the Ambassador of Aerlon on fire when Finch, the aviculturist who worked in the aviary, ran over, cheeks flushed.

“Race, I-“ He paused, seemingly startled at the realization that Albert was there too. “—sorry, Prince Antonio, uh-“

“Race, huh?” Albert quirked an eyebrow, grinning. Race huffed, shaking his head as he smiled.

“Long story. Finch, this is Prince Albert. Albert, this is Finch. He takes care of all the birds.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry to cut this short, but I might need some of your help Race...”

Race’s attention piqued.

“Lead the way!” He and Finch began heading towards the aviary, but Race paused, remembering his company, and pivoted.

He quirked his head, noticing the amused looks in both Albert’s and Spot’s eyes, and realized for the first time that maybe he didn’t have to make any tough decisions, or at least not the ones he expected.

Feeling confident, Race began formulating a plan. “You two get to know each other. I promise I won’t be long!” He gave one last grin, before turning and running after Finch.

Bemused, Albert laughed lightly, before turning to Spot, who looked far more relaxed than he had earlier, when Albert was first introduced, albeit still fairly reserved.

“Well, shall we?”

 

Race wasn’t sure what to expect when he got back. As it turns out, Finch had a rather stressed out bird that was flying around the medical room, knocking over bottles and charts, and had needed Race’s speed to help him safely catch it. It had taken the two a little longer than expected, as they couldn’t stop laughing every time the bird startled the other.

When he finally returned to the gardens though, he was fairly shocked to see Spot pressed against the trunk of a banyan tree, hands tangled in Albert’s hair as they kissed, pulling each other closer. Race stood dumbfounded for a moment, unsure how to react.

“What the hell?” That’s a reaction.

The two jumped apart, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.

“Race, I-“ Spot tried to start, taking a step forward.

But Race wasn’t having it. “Oh my god, you guys are so hot.” He rushed forward, kissing Albert, who was caught off guard for half a moment, before he wrapped his arms around Race’s waist and reciprocated enthusiastically.

After a moment, Race pulled back, breathing heavily and mildly wild-eyed. Still in Albert’s hold, he reached out a hand to pull Spot forward, locking their lips together. Next to their ears, Albert moaned softly, grip tightening minutely as he ducked his head down into Race’s neck, pressing hot kisses along his skin.

Gasping, Race forced himself to take a step away from them, nearly giving in as both Albert and Spot tried to follow him. Instead, using the self-control he had apparently just discovered, Race held his hands up, catching his breath as he tried to clear his head.

“Okay, I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting this, and also that I may have been a little too excited. But, I repeat: what the hell?”

Albert grinned, sharing a look with Spot that may have made Race a little weak in the knees. “So after you left, Spot and I may have gotten to talking about you-“

“-He was wondering about any previous courtships-“

“-And Spotty here may have let it slip that while you had never accepted any previous suitors’ advances, you and him did have a little bit of a thing going on-“

“-And Albert may have admitted that you weren’t the only he had his eye on-“ (At that Race blushed, though he’d vehemently deny it afterwards.)

“-And things just kind of... escalated from there.”

By this point, Race’s capacity to control himself has nearly depleted, as previously unused as it was, and he was practically vibrating with the need to be back in someone’s arms. Thankfully, he also understood that they were lucky enough to have gone undisturbed for this long as is.

He bit his bottom lip, thrilled as both Spot and Albert’s eyes followed the movement. Barely restraining himself from jumping on them (again), Race turned away, moving not even two steps away before glancing over his shoulder at Spot and Albert, whose expressions were priceless.

“Well, are you coming?”

 

A rush of déjà vu flowed over Race as he found himself, once again, slammed against the wall of his room, held in place by two very firm arms. This time, however, it was Albert’s mouth he was moaning into, as Spot was busy marking up the sides of Albert’s neck from behind him, hands reaching around to grab onto Race’s hips and pull all three of them together. Albert groaned, head falling back onto Spot’s shoulder and hips thrusting forward into Race’s.

“Gods, look at you,” Race murmured, leaning forward to bury his face under Albert’s jaw, a low, happy noise vibrating within his throat at the sound Albert made. Spot smirked, moving away from the hickey he was sucking into Albert’s skin to kiss Race, grip tightening on his hips.

“This might— holy _shit_ — this might be easier if we moved to the bed,” Albert gasped, thoughts just a little fuzzy.

“Brains and beauty,” Spot teased, pulling back.

The three stumbled towards the plush bed, tugging on clothes. Spot took Race’s crown, then Albert’s, setting them aside before pushing Albert onto the bed, crawling over him. Albert moaned, rolling his hips upward and wrapping his arms around Spot’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

Race, meanwhile, worked on pulling Spot’s shirt off, having already removed his own and Albert’s. Spot arched his back to make it easier, separating from Albert, who promptly latched onto Spot’s now-bare chest, hands sliding downwards.

“If I had known it would end up like this, I would’ve visited a lot sooner,” Albert murmured, making Race grin.

“That’s right, I still haven’t given you a proper ‘welcome.’ I should probably get on that.” With that, Race gently pushed Spot aside, undid Albert’s pants, and swallowed him down in one fell swoop.

Albert swore, hips bucking upward and head slamming backwards. Race was unfazed, simply placing his hands on Albert’s hipbones to control his movements. Spot moved behind Albert, pulling him into a sitting position, pressed back-to-chest.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he. You should see him when he gets all needy, practically begging to be fucked. He just makes the prettiest noises,” Spot murmured, loud enough that Race could hear him too. Albert gasped and moaned, arms above his head and around Spot’s neck. Sensing he was close, Race pulled off, much to Albert’s dismay.

Hand sliding up to gently hold Albert’s jaw, Race brushed their lips together, voice low and sultry when he spoke.

“Don’t want to this end this so soon, do you?”

Eyes growing darker, Albert growled, flipping them so Race was pressed underneath him, grinding together senselessly. Spot stared for a moment, thanking the gods for blessing him with two angels, before scrambling to find what they needed, eyes darting back to make sure Race and Albert didn’t disappear.

Triumphantly, Spot held the bottle of lube up, rushing back over to the bed. Albert pulled away from where he’d been darkening Race’s neck, eyes sparkling as he saw what Spot held. He rolled off of Race, who was now fully bared, chest rising and falling as his eyes met Spot’s. His lips quirked, and he pulled Spot down, kissing him as he stole the bottle, beginning to prepare himself.

Spot moaned when he realized what Race was doing, hovering above him as he watched Race’s face contort with pleasure. Albert breathlessly propped himself up on arm, unable to look away as Race’s eyelashes fluttered, whimpering breathily.

After a few moments, Race paused, gently pulling Albert in for a kiss, then Spot. They were softer than before, and all three of them were suddenly hit with the full weight of what they were doing.

Slipping his hand into Race’s, Spot reached over to cup Albert’s jaw, gaze soft.

“Are you sure about this? I won’t pressure you if you want to back out.”

Heart aching from the tenderness in Spot’s tone, Albert leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m sure.”

Spot smiled into it, thumb brushing Albert’s cheek.

“Race?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Unwilling to put things off any longer, Spot helped move Race move up further onto the bed, so his head was resting comfortably on a pillow, curls splayed out like a halo. Race reached out to pull Albert over him, leaning up to tug on his bottom lip playfully. His hands twined themselves into Albert’s hair, tugging softly as Albert pushed in, carefully at first, but with increasing intensity. Race’s hands slipped to shoulders, fingernails scraping over his back as he moaned.

Spot laid by their sides, murmuring encouragement and enjoying the view of Albert pounding Race into the bed frame, hair falling into his eyes as his biceps flexed, holding himself up over Race for a better angle.

Race’s back arched and his toes curled as Albert struck a certain spot in him, and he choked on his breath. “Again, a-gain, do that again.”

Albert happily obliged, one hand shifting to grip Race’s curls, tugging his head back and enjoying the broken moan that followed.

Spot reached a hand between the two to jack Race off, still whispering dirty things in his ear, and Race came with a cry of his and Albert’s names, chest heaving. Albert soon followed, practically collapsing.

Soon however, they managed to more or less catch their breaths, and they quickly turned their full attentions to Spot.

“Well, we can’t leave you out, now can we?”

Much as he had earlier, with Albert, Race made quick work of swallowing Spot down, hands gripping his thighs. Albert swallowed Spot’s moan, hands carding through thick black hair. It didn’t take long for Spot to come, one hand curled in Race’s hair and one curled into Albert’s.

All three fully spent and exhausted, they fell back onto the bed, feeling pleased and loved and warm.

Race flopped his head to the side to trace Albert’s face as he stared up at the ceiling, fully appreciating the freckles in the flickering candlelight of the otherwise dark room, the sun having gone only a little bit before. Just beyond him, Race could see Spot, who was similarily watching Albert.

Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, Race grabbed Albert’s hands, playing with fingers. He gently brushed over the spots and knuckles as he tried to gather up the right words to say, but Albert beat him to it.

“I suppose we should officially announce our courtship tomorrow, huh?”

Race lit up, and he watched as Spot’s expression broke into a wide grin.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

**Author's Note:**

> Drinking game: take a short every time I write “grinned” if you wanna fuckin die. 
> 
> Anyway I had said I was working on another fic when I posted the last one. And I wasn’t lying! Like I said though, I have two modes: write it all within two days, or take months to get. It. Done. 
> 
> I do technically have another Ralbert fic in the works, but it’s up for debate when or if that one will ever get posted. I do read the comments though if anyone has any suggestions for a new one (I’m up for virtually any ship or character combo). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
